


The Holy Tamale War of 2018

by cresselia8themoon



Category: Milo Murphy's Law
Genre: Crack, Crazy fandom people, Gen, crazy people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 09:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13567296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresselia8themoon/pseuds/cresselia8themoon
Summary: In which Sara inspires the Dr. Zone fandom to declare war on tamales and pull some illegal junk.





	The Holy Tamale War of 2018

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to take a break from the heavy stuff and write something more crackfic-y. We all know egg rolls are pretty damn evil...but there’s a food the Dr. Zone fandom considers even more devious.

_“You don’t even have a mouth! I don’t see what you’re complaining about!” Dr. Zone protested as he shoved the last tamale into his mouth._

_Time Ape pushed the button on top of his head, his fists curling in anger. “8:30 pm.Taste food for the first time. 8:32 pm. Chance stolen by Dr. Hankry Zone.”_

_“I told you before, the sauce will jam your mechanisms. Besides, I need the energy for the knighting ceremony tomorrow,” Dr. Zone retorted.  
_

_“8:33 pm. Dr. Zone letting primal urges overrule brotherly bonds. 8:34 pm. Declare brotherhood over,” Time Ape turned away, his clock hands spinning into a frown. He walked into the fog and vanished.  
_

_Dr. Zone gasped. “Time Ape! You can’t just leave me!” He ran out the door, but there was no way to discern his surroundings since the gray clouds obscured everything. “Time Ape!”_

_The screen went black._

_**TO BE CONTINUED?** _

Kris shut the TV off without looking up, her bangs obscuring her face. It was impossible to see what she was thinking. Wally scrambled for his phone to check social media for the latest reactions, while Neal glanced around the room in confusion. 

Poor guy was a newbie and didn’t quite understand all the emotional weight behind the sacred bonds of brotherly love breaking. 

Sara was still trying to process everything. 

Then an earsplitting shriek shattered the silence. 

You know, the kind of shriek that’s a glass shop’s worst nightmare, makes flocks of birds shooting up into the sky and stealing everyone’s bread, and startling a time traveler enough to make him fall off a cliff and die. 

We ain’t spending time on that last one. 

Everyone covered their ears, glaring at Kris. She folded her arms. “As a loyal oldbie since infancy, I reserve the right to express my feelings in an incoherent manner after a dramatic event,” she explained as if her scream hadn’t happened at all. 

“Social media’s blowing up,” Wally reported. “Mostly people screaming, crying, singing while screaming and crying. And the usual tag your spoilers stuff.” 

“Are Zonians always this...dramatic?” Neal whispered to Sara. 

She shrugged. “It’s been five minutes. Just gonna snowball from here. Also, I might freak you out a bit, so please bear with me.” She waited for Neal to grab a pillow, partly for comfort and partly for self-defense. 

Then she smeared black streaks across her face and whipped out an electric guitar, strumming a furious rhythm that only escalated from there. 

“OH, YEAH!” Kris screamed, slamming a button on the wall. The entire front half of the house gave way to a concert stage. 

Neal could only gape as Sara took the limelight with her guitar solo, the rational part of him wondering how a house could do that (clearly he’s never met Phineas and Ferb). But mostly thinking of how cute Sara was when her inner fangirl went wild and caused public disturbances. 

A large crowd of adolescents gathered on the lawn, many of them dressed in an odd mashup of cosplay and pajamas. They roared as the solo reached its peak, then Sara furiously snatched the microphone from its stand. 

_“Never in our lives has this happened before,_

_A sorrow brewing in our hearts and more._

_It sinks deep into the depths of our soul,_

_And all we can do is scribble, write, and mull._

_We’ve survived the shipping wars and art thieves,_

_We’ve pulled through when the show takes a leave._

_Against our enemies, we must be united!_

_I declare tamales must be smited!_

_Rip ‘em,_

_Throw ‘em,_

_Scatter the contents to the wind!_

_That’s right, enemies are tamales!_

_And in case ya didn’t hear,_

_E-N-E-M-I-E-S ARE T-A-M-A-L-E-S!”_

She bowed with a flourish, and the crowd roared their agreement. 

“TAMALES ARE EVIL!” 

“DOWN WITH DELICIOUS MEXICAN FOOD!” 

“Oh, um, my grandmother is making tamales for a party tomorrow, and they’re pretty good.” 

“BAN TAMALES!” 

“LOOK!” someone shouted, pointing to a truck labeled ‘Gomez’s Tamales’ driving down the street. “THEY’RE IN LEAGUE WITH THE EVIL TAMALES!”

Sara waved her arms frantically as she tried to calm the crowd down. “Come on guys, I was messing around. Please don’t do something illegal.” 

The guy who’d spotted the truck rubbed his chin in thought. “Yeah, I guess I was acting on an emotional high.” 

She sighed in relief. “Well, now that you’ve calmed-” 

“But my loyalty to the show outweighs my need to be a decent human being. LET’S GET HIM!” 

They rushed after the truck, brandishing collector’s editions of Dr. Zone’s weaponry. 

“I’m going home,” Sara announced to Neal. “I’ll be living on rations in our bunker, so don’t tell the police where I am.”

* * *

 

Monogram was signing the paperwork of several new agents when Carl stumbled into the office, his sleeves ripped and dangling in strips around his thin arms. He peeked out the window, shutting the blinds. 

“Carl! You’re four minutes late! Did you transport all the potential recruits in the Gomez’s Tamales truck you were assigned?” Monogram barked. 

“S-so many bees...never seen that many...they’re out there,” Carl mumbled, curling into the fetal position. 

Monogram rolled his eyes. “We don’t have bees in this division.” 

Ignoring Carl, he skimmed through the pile of mission briefings he would have to give in the morning. 

“Why did 87% of the evil scientists planning a scheme for tomorrow decide to target tamales....” 

 


End file.
